I recently made a Tessuti Monroe Turtleneck for myself from some French terry that was in deep stash. The fabric was a mispurchase years ago and has been languishing. I thought it would make a wearable muslin of this pattern, but I was wrong. It was a travesty. The fabric didn’t work for the pattern, too rigid, and it looked awful.

It’s strange days, my lovelies. I hope you’re all staying in if you can and staying safe regardless.

We are on lockdown here Chez Jones. Dave is working at home. The kids have online schoolwork. We’re not doing masses of it, with school’s blessing, but we have what we need. They also have enough Lego to build a nuclear bunker, books to stock a small shop and are showing an interest in learning calligraphy.

I think you can say we’re going to be fine. We have much to be grateful for.

Although I don’t mind admitting that I’m equal parts heartbroken and humbled by humanity at the moment. There has been a definite split in the behaviour of people up to this point. I’m not on the side of the self-centred hoarders of pasta and loo rolls.

Thankfully, before all this malarky started, I was able to attend my second furniture painting workshop. For this one we were looking at layering stamps and transfers.

We arrived to find that the store owner, Amanda, had prepared some colour blended boards for us. Therefore, our first task was the fun one of choosing our stamps.

Before we chat about Gramps, can I just start with a quick “Lord, how cute is this boy of mine?” One of the things I love about this blog is it’s not just a catalogue of the things I’ve made, it’s also a visual history of my kids growing up.

According to my Ravelry account this Honey Bee Sweater was finished in July last year. Yesterday was the first time that Summer has worn it. Cue eye roll! I think we’re at the tipping point of not wearing handmade for a while. Eeeep!

It seems so very long since Yarndale 2019. To be fair it was back in September, on a lovely autumnal day. Driving to Skipton is always lovely. Whilst the parking for Yarndale is tricky (I ended up parking in town and walking up the hill to the Auction Mart), it’s worth it.

This time of year is normally a whirl of craziness and panic. This year I have pared Christmas down to the bone and am, for the first time ever, not only organised but actually enjoying the festive run up.

This isn’t some feat of organisational wizardry, but good old fashioned simplification and list making.

What it has meant is that not only has my recent incapacitation due to recklessness on the stairs not impacted on the festive plans, but also that a couple of weeks ago I was able to take some time out for a trip to the Walker Art Gallery in Liverpool to visit their exhibition “An English Lady’s Wardrobe”.

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